Honor Thy Father
by Gimme-Chan
Summary: A small group of neutrals is discovered, among them Prowls father. Delighted to be with his sparkling again, he plants himself in Prowls life and finds he's not happy with the decisions Prowl has made, especially Prowls choice in mate...Jazz.
1. Chapter 1

***Note from me***Hey everyone! Yes, I am alive! I can not thank everyone enough for all the reviews and favs I've gotten even in my...lets call it my hiatus. My personal life has settled down and is allowing me more time to actually write again :) So, for those wondering, yes, Should have known better will be getting updated. As well as None so Blind and Blackmail. Those are the three I'm currently working on new chapters at the moment...more will follow. :)

Thank you again, guys! *much love and hugs*

**Honor thy Father Summary**A small group of neutrals is discovered, among them Prowl's father. Eager and delighted to be with his sparkling again, Dodger plants himself in Prowl's life and finds he's not happy with the decisions Prowl has made, especially Prowl's choice in mate. Dodger intends to put an end to the disgusting fling Prowl is having with Jazz, who he sees as a trashy slang talking Polyhex nobody.

* * *

**Chapter One:**

**Discovery**

* * *

The discovery of the wayward neutral group taking refuge in a fallen city, having stayed hidden for so long by going underground, was nothing short of a miracle. The fact the neutral group was made up of Praxians nearly caused Prowl to glitch on the spot. After all, he had believed for vorns that he, Bluestreak, and Smokescreen were the last of their kind. But it was the shock that his creator, long believed…no, no...known to be dead, was amongst the neutrals found had sent Prowl into full shut down.

Dodger looked on worriedly as his sparkling…well, Prowl was by far no longer a sparkling but still…was picked up and carried aboard the ship. His worry failed to ease when it seemed no one was remotely bothered that Prowl had…had glitched. Since when had his sparkling ever glitched! And why was no one upset by this?

His upset must have been outwardly noticeable as a maroon and blue mech, an Autobot Praxian, came up to him.

"No need to worry, Prowl will be just fine. Obviously you being here and, well, alive is a shock. A rather illogical and seemingly impossible one, even by my calculations, and its situations like these that can cause his battle computer and logic center to lock up -"

Dodger turned sharply toward the mech, ""Battle computer? Prowl would never allow such a vile thing to be installed in him. What monster mutilated, violated, my spark…Prowl, in such a way?"

The Autobot Praxian frowned and shook his head, "Prowl wanted it installed, volunteered for it. Even went before a panel and had to under go various tests to make sure he was a proper candidate for the procedure since installing them was purely experimental."

Dodger frowned, "Those experiments were disastrous failures. I thought they did away with them. How could they be brought back?"

The mech shook his head and gave a slight shrug, "We needed an upper hand against the Decepitcons, so the experiments were reopened."

"Your telling me this time around the battle computers were a success?"

The mech shifted uncomfortably, "No. They got the same disastrous results as the experiments before and the project was closed. Permanently."

Dodger's frown deepened, anger flared in his optics, "Then how is it Prowl still has one?"

The mech looked away and raised a hand to rub the back of his helm in a gesture that clearly said 'I don't want to say because I know you won't like the answer', "Prowl…made it work."

Optics narrowed, "What do you mean, 'Prowl made it work'?"

The mech shifted uncomfortably on his feet again, "Well…."

"Smokescreen!"

The maroon and blue mech turned around at the call and Dodger watched as a large red mech, warrior type, jogged up to them.

"Smokescreen, Sir, we got a comm from Prime. He wants us to head back to base. There's been Decepticon movement detected. We don't have the numbers for a fight so we need to get everyone on the ship and head back to base, now."

Smokescreen nodded, "Right, lets go.", turning back to Dodger, "We need to go. Now. Gather your mechs."

Dodger shook his head, torn. He wanted to stay here, he had never wanted to pick a side, never wanted to have anything to do with this war at all. But, his sparkling was alive. He wanted to see Prowl, talk to him, be with him, reach out and touch the sparkling he had believed torn from his life and left for dead. And to do that…..

Smokescreen grabbed his arm, shaking him from his thoughts, "There's no real choice here. If we know you're here, I can guarantee you the Decepticons know you're here. And if not, they soon will. And when, not if, but when they find you there will be no mercy. Come with us."

Dodger looked at Smokescreen then over to the group of about twenty Praxian mechs, all of whom watched him. Intently. Waiting to see what he'd do. He was in no way the leader of the group but he did hold influence. And if he got on that ship, others would follow.

Dodger sighed, "Give me a moment."

He quickly walked over to the group of waiting Praxians, one stepping forward, "Dodger, your not -"

"I'm going. And I suggest all of you do as well."

"Dodger, none of us want to join this war. We -"

"My sparkling is on that ship. The sparkling I have long thought dead. And if going with them….joining with them is what I must do to be near him…then so be it."

There was a moment of silence as they stared at one another before Dodger spoke again. "There are Decepticons coming. And if your still here when they get here….I think you know what will happen."

The mech rubbed a hand over his face, coming to grips that staying could mean a death sentence. He turned toward the group.

"What does everyone think?"

Several nodded, speaking at once.

"I'll go."

"I think we should too."

"We can't hide forever."

"I agree"

"But we've been fine for this long."

"That's true."

Dodger looked them over, "I'd never force anyone on that ship but if you stay, your taking your life in your hands. As for me, I'm leaving."

With that he turned and quickly walked toward Smokescreen. He could hear many mechs following him…he hoped they all would.

And they did.

It took only a few breems to get everyone on the ship, settled, and they were on their way back to the base long before the Decepticons got close.

Throughout the trip, Dodger kept his optics on his unconscious sparkling. What had prompted Prowl to join the Autobots? He and his mate had raised Prowl to be a proper Praxian, educated, intelligent, peace loving. How had he survived so long in this war? Did he go to battle often? Had he ever been shot? If so, where? How many times? And what had he been thinking to get a battle computer installed…and, worse, to keep it in even after the nasty results of the experiments? What had he gone through because of it? What side effects has he suffered?

Thinking about it all made him feel sick.

And this glitch...his Prowl had a glitch... Primus, what was wrong with his sparkling? And why hadn't they fixed it so he wouldn't glitch anymore? Or was that not a possibility?

That thought left him cold and worried.

****Authors Notes****

A quick into chapter. Next chapter, Prowl gets a nice reunion with Dodger and Dodger gets a nasty shock when he sees Prowl and Jazz and reviewing is always loved! Keeps me going :) Thanks!


	2. Chapter 2

See...this got updated quickly! LOL, I actually had it in my head...had to get it out!

Thanks for all the favs and reviews already! *hugs!* I really appreciate it!

I believe it was in vejiraziel's stories where she would refer to a mechs creators as Sire and Carrier in place of Father and Mother. I always liked that, thought it was fitting so I'm using those terms sprinkled in here and there as well.

**Warning!:**Does contain some mech on mech and will have more mech on mech in later chapters.

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Ok, "Vorn" = about 1 year, "Stellarcycle" = about 6 months, "Decacycle" = about 1 week, "Cycle" = about 1 day, "Orn" = about an hour, "Breem" = about a minute

* * *

**Chapter 2:**

**Reunion**

* * *

His vents hitched and he stared at the group in disbelief.

It couldn't be. It was impossible…..

"Primus….this, this is impossible…"

Smokescreen stood beside him, canted his head toward him, speaking just as softly, "I know. Praxians. Who'd of guessed."

He shook his head as one mech stepped forward from the group, optics locked on his own.

"Its not just that, Smokescreen. That mech…"

His voice failed him and he could feel the warning ache slice through his processor.

"Yeah?"

He tried to get his vocalizer under control.

"He…he's…he's my creator."

Smokescreen looked at the Praxian then back at him, "What? Seriously? Really! He's your creator? That's, that's unbelievable…Prowl? Prowl? Oh frag, no…."

It was too late. Processors locked and shut down. Thankfully, Smokescreen grabbed him before he hit the ground and darkness swallowed his consciousness.

* * *

With a quiet moan, Prowl powered up his optics, giving them a moment to calibrate.

"I just want you to know, I'm blaming _you_ personally, Prowl."

Prowl turned his head in the direction of Ratchet's voice. He looked at the disgruntle medic who was vigorously cleaning various tools.

The medic shot him a glare, "Don't even think about moving."

The only time Prowl heard that phase with that amount of danger laced in the words, was in two situations. One was when he had, on few occasions, a Decepticon hold a gun to the back of his helm in an attempt to take him prisoner. And the other was when he was face to face with one very cranky Ratchet. Which was the riskier situation to be in, was still open for debate.

"Blaming me personally for what?"

Ratchet's optics narrowed, intensifying the glare that really had no effect on Prowl, "Doorwing joints."

Prowl frowned, trying to understand the strange answer.

"Doorwing joints, Prowl."

He looked at Ratchet with confusion, "I don't understand -"

Ratchet slammed down the tool he had been cleaning, "Doorwing joints, Prowl! And I'm blaming YOU, cause that's all I'm going to see now that you've brought that Praxian horde back with you!"

Ratchet walked toward Prowl, "Accursed doorwing joints! Pinched wires, jarred joints, sore joints, dislocated joints, cracked hinges, and the twenty thousand other problems that doorwings bring with them."

Prowl looked calmly up at the medic as he came to stand at the side of his med berth, "Twenty thousand is a heavily exaggerated number, Ratchet, I think a more actuate number might be -"

Ratchet crossed his arms over his chest and glared down, "Do not interject your logic into my rants. It is neither desired nor welcomed."

Ratchet reached over and tapped at a few screens before looking back at Prowl again, more humor than malice in his optics, "How do you feel?"

"Fine."

Ratchet nodded, "Good. Now, how do you really feel?"

Prowl gave a sighed, "I have a processor ache and I feel…tired, a little lethargic."

Ratchet nodded as he began unhooking Prowl from the monitors, "I have suppressants, if you want them, for the processor ache and some fresh energon in your systems will take care the rest."

Prowl shook his head slowly as he shifted to sit up on the berth, "No, thank you, a good recharge will take care of the ache."

Ratchet flicked away the last of the hookups, "Thought as much. And of course, as per usual, your on light duty for the next 3 cycles."

Prowl leaned forward, flexing stiff doorwing joints, "Of course."

"And, uh,", Ratchet tilted his head to the side a touch, "You got a visitor."

Prowl turned expecting to see Jazz standing by the door but was shocked to instead see his creator. He stood just outside the door frame, looking unsure if he should enter.

Ratchet leaned close to Prowl, "I'll leave you to it. Should you need anything.."

Prowl nodded and Ratchet gave Prowl's shoulder a gentle squeeze before heading toward the door, speaking quietly to Dodger, "Its alright, you can go in, he's fine."

Dodger nodded, great fully, "Thank you."

Dodger walked slowly toward him, "Prowl…". His vocalizer faulted for a moment, "Prowl…..."

"Sire."

And with that soft spoken word, Prowl suddenly found himself enveloped in a strong embrace. Surprising himself when he realized he was already returning it.

Dodger's hands clutched at him, holding him tightly, the grip speaking clearly that Dodger feared at any moment Prowl might suddenly vanish.

Dodger's vents hitched under the crushing relief and pain and he spoke in gasps, "Your alive…your alive…..Prowl…Thank you, Primus, your alive…"

Prowl held him close, trying to sooth his creator, offer comfort.

"I'm so sorry, Prowl….I'm so sorry…..I tried….I tried, Prowl, I searched…I searched for you…..the dormitories…..the academy….I'm so sorry….I searched…I couldn't find you…..I'm sorry."

"Its ok, I know…..its ok."

Prowl knew he was going to have to sit his sire down and tell him all that had happened. Dodger could have dug and searched for him for cycles and not found him. He had been in the vaults of the academy records, several stories below the surface, when the attack took place.

He had been buried, nearly crushed to death, unable to move as steel beams and debris pinned him down. In fact, if the Autobots hadn't been using a device to picked up spark signatures, he would have been left for dead.

He was about to say as much when Ratchet came back into the room and quietly cleared his throat, "Prowl, hate to do this, but Optimus needs to see you in his office."

Prowl slowly let go of his sire and Dodger straightened. Prowl stood and looked him in the optics, "I'm sorry. I need to -"

Dodger waved it off, "No, no, don't apologize. I understand, you have responsibilities."

Prowl gave him a small smile, "Would you like to join me in the morning for some energon? We can talk more then."

Dodger gave him a large smile, "Absolutely."

Prowl smiled a little more, "In the morning then. Have a good recharge."

Dodger pulled him into one more hug, "You too, Prowl, you too."

Prowl pulled away and walked out the door to see Ratchet smiling at him.

"That's my…. Dodger's my creator."

Ratchet nodded, his smile widening, "Yeah, I kinda picked that up when you called him 'sire'."

Prowl put on his most serious face, "Hmmm, very astute of you, Ratchet. Perhaps we should sign you up for intel. I'm sure Jazz would love to have you."

"Get out.", Ratchet snarled though his optics never lost their humor. Ratchet always enjoyed it when Prowl was in good humor and actually let it show. He gave a silent "Thank you" to Jazz for that.

After Prowl left Ratchet walked over to where Dodger stood in the doorway, "I'm Ratchet, Chief Medic."

Dodger reached out and shook the medics hand, "Dodger, wandering neutral."

Ratchet gave a wry smile, "Well, at least I know he comes by his humor honestly."

Dodger chuckled and was about to ask the medic some questions about his sparkling when the Med Bay doors hissed open and in walked…no, not walked….strolled a black and white mech with a crystalline blue visor.

Dodger frowned slightly. Visored mechswere not to be trusted and should be watched carefully. They were known for keeping secrets, weren't always trust worthy, and tended to be tricky, sneaky, things. Praxians didn't wear visors. They didn't need to. Anyone could look them straight in the optics, they had nothing to hide.

The mech gave a big grin, "Hey Ratch'! Is Prowler up? Optimus was wantin' a word with us. Thought I'd swing on by an' pick 'em up on meh way ther'."

Dodger had to actually work not to cringe at the sheer, heedless butchery of the language. This mech was without a doubt a sparked and breed Polyhexian. Primus help him, _those_ types were here. Dodger sighed inside. Oh well, takes all kinds to fight a war.

Ratchet shook his head, "Sorry Jazz, I already delivered that message. You just missed him. He's already heading there."

Jazz just grinned back, "S'all rite, Ratch'. I'll catch up with em'. Thanks!"

And with that the visored mech turned around and bounced out. Dodger couldn't help but be thankful, too much of that would give him a processor ache.

He turned to the medic once more, "Well, if you'll excuse me, I think I'll go get some recharge. Its been, if you'll excuse the expression, a pit of a cycle."

Ratchet gave a small chuckle, Prowl really WAS this mechs sparkling!

"Absolutely, it was great to met you."

Dodger gave the medic a polite smile then exited the Med Bay. He pulled from subspace the data pad containing the map and headed back to the rooms designated for them.

Dodger had only been in recharge for a few orns when he on lined, again. The fact that tomorrow morning he would get to sit and talk with his sparkling, Prowl, who he had spent several vorns grieving the loss of. He was alive! Dodger wished his mate could have been here.

Unable to fall back into recharge, Dodger decided to have a cube of something he hadn't had since before the attack. High grade. They had been encourage to enjoy some if they so wished.

Quietly, he left the room before taking the data pad from subspace and activating it, didn't want to draw anyone else from recharge if he could help it. It was fairly late.

He walked slowly, just enjoying the quiet.

Dodger reached a doorway he believed to be one of the entrances to the commons area with the energon and high grade. He carefully peeked in, not wanting to enter an area he wasn't suppose to be in. Glancing about the large room, he saw it was empty….save for one mech who was hunched over a table working on a data pad.

Prowl.

His Prowl.

His alive and functioning Prowl.

He could see Prowl's profile, the concentration, that serious set edge to his mouth…..so like his carrier, it made Dodger smile. He debated if he should even enter, as doing so would undoubtedly interrupt Prowl, breaking his concentration.

He was still debating with himself when a mech walked through the doorway behind his grown sparkling. Dodger ducked back a bit. He could see it was the same black and white visored mech from the Med Bay earlier that cycle…..Jazz.

He watched as Jazz grinned at Prowl's back and silently crept up behind him. It looked like Jazz intended to spook Prowl making Dodger frown. It seemed to be rather sparkling like behavior for a grown mech in an army.

However, Dodger's frown turned into open mouth shock as Jazz did not spook Prowl, no, he crept up behind Prowl and draped himself on Prowl's back. Snuggling himself between doorwings, gracing both Prowl and his own audios with a rather lust filled moan.

Dodger couldn't believe what he was seeing….and it only got worse! Prowl actually reached up and caressed a hand over Jazz's helm and down the back of Jazz's neck. The visored mech purred and black hands began caressing over Prowl's doorwings.

Prowl off lined his optics and leaned his helm back to rest on Jazz's as a sigh escaped his throat, "Jazz…."

"Prowl."

"Jazz….my reports…"

"Aren't due til' much much later. Com' on…..meh berth's cold n' lonely wit' out chou in it."

Then the visored mech pulled Prowl in for a deep kiss before tugging a dazed looking Prowl up and out of the commons area.

Dodger leaned back against the wall, his hand coming up to rest on his abdomen…he felt sick.

Jazz was taking advantage of Prowl. Was manipulating him…no…worse… Jazz was seducing him. Bending Prowl to his whims, using him to satisfy his wants and needs.

Jazz was Ployhexian and he wasn't a young one so he knew what he was doing. He should have known better than to even try to approach a Praxian.

Praxians couple with Praxians. That's the way it was, the way it had always been, the way it should always be. Dodger shook his head. Poor Prowl, he didn't know. But that's what creators were for, to give a guiding hand, he could help Prowl. There were other Praxians here now. He knew them well. Smart, well spoken, elegant, good, respectable potential mates for Prowl.

Dodger walked into the commons area and got his cube of high grade, feeling better now that a plan was forming.

Dodger smiled to himself as he sipped his high grade on the way back to his quarters. He'd start introducing Prowl to the other Praxian mechs tomorrow. Then Prowl would see and understand and not want anything to do with Jazz ever again.

*****Authors Notes*****And it begins. Jazz doesn't know it yet but Dodger wants him out of the I first started this and wrote down the idea, I didn't want Dodger to be all black and white (so to say). I wanted to hit on some grays areas. Namely perception, both individual and cultural. And not just for Dodger but for Jazz, Prowl, Bluestreak, Smokescreen, and others as and reviewing is always loved and appreciated! Thanks! :)


	3. Chapter 3

Thanks for all the favs and reviews! *hugs!* I really appreciate it!

**Warning! :**Does contain some mech on mech and will have more mech on mech in later chapters.

* * *

Ok, "Vorn" = about 1 year, "Stellarcycle" = about 6 months, "Decacycle" = about 1 week, "Cycle" = about 1 day, "Orn" = about an hour, "Breem" = about a minute

"hello" - regular speak

_:hello:_ - comm line speak

* * *

**Chapter 3**

**Confrontation**

* * *

Dodger left for the commons area a good three orns earlier than when he was suppose to meet Prowl. Despite the high grade he'd consumed the previous night, he still on lined early. Not willing to lay in his berth and fight recharge anymore, he got up.

In the commons area a few mechs sat here and there, most either talking to a friend or reading data pads. Not feeling particularly talkative at the moment, Dodger took up a seat away from the rest, angling himself so he could gaze out a large window that over looked a stretch of enclosed court yard. Given the early orn, only a few mechs could be observed walking here or there. Dodger leaned back in his seat and relaxed, it was peaceful, quiet, and serene.

It lasted all of fifteen breems.

"Dodger, right?"

Dodger hesitated before turning around, he really didn't feel like company or conversation at the moment, not unless Prowl suddenly showed up and that was not Prowl's voice. However, common courtesy forbid him to simply ignore someone who had directly addressed him. Turning around and looking up, he found himself in the company of a large boxy red orange mech with a yellow chest plate.

The mech smiled down at him as he stepped around the table, setting his cube of energon down on the table, and took an uninvited seat across from him, completely blocking Dodger's view of the court yard. The mech reached a large grey hand across the table, "Name's Blaster."

Dodger gave a small smile and politely shook the mechs hand, "Hello."

Blaster grinned as he picked up his cube of energon, "An' if rumor mill is workin' right, yer Prowl's sire."

Dodger cringed a little inside, another slang talking mech, "Yes, that I am."

Blaster leaned back, "S'nice to meet the creator of the mech who makes one of my best friends very happy."

At Dodger's confused look Blaster elaborated, "Jazz. He's one of my best friends, we go way back."

Dodger remained silent and Blaster's smile faltered a bit, "Ya know 'bout him an' Prowl….right?"

"Yes, yes, I do."

Blaster's smile came back full force, "He's a great mech, that Jazz."

Dodger worked to keep a polite smile on his face even as his optics sought out the exit door. He really didn't want to sit here this early in the morning listening to a mech go on about how great Jazz was. There was nothing great about Jazz, as far as he was concerned.

Blaster continued on happily from the other side of the table, "Let me tell ya, Jazz is a wild one!"

Dodger's optics were focused on the exit, "Is he now?"

He was just thinking about excusing himself and leaving when Blaster gave a laugh, "Oh yeah! Oh, all the wild and crazy things he's done! Dodger, the stories I could tell ya!"

Dodger blinked and looked at Blaster as he took a sip of his energon, "Really?"

Blaster nodded and smirked at him, "Oh yeah, I got tons of 'em 'bout Jazz. Like I said, we go way back."

Dodger leaned on the table towards Blaster, replacing his polite smile with one that was far more friendly, "Well then, your in good company, Blaster, I happen love stories. Would you be so willing as to indulge me?"

Blaster gave a laugh and leaned in toward Dodger, "It'd be my pleasure! Well, let me start off by tellin' ya 'bout this one time that Jazz…."

_***an orn and a half later***_

Blaster laughed as he sat back in his seat, "And let me tell ya, Dodger, Prowl was sooo mad at Jazz…I…hehee….I don' think he talked ta th' mech for a decacycle! It was also th' last time he scheduled Jazz an' Sideswipe on th' same late night security shift. He…hahahee…he calls keepin' 'em apart "Disaster Management"."

Dodger gave a good natured chuckle. Cataloging every story Blaster had told him, each one justifying and solidifying his resolve to remove Jazz as Prowl's lover. And the sooner he got Jazz out of the picture, the better for Prowl. The mech was clearly unsuitable for him.

Blaster laughed and stretched, "Well, Dodger, this has been great! But I need ta head back ta my quarters an' get some recharge….got a late shift again this cycle."

Dodger leaned forward and shook the mechs hand again, "Its been a pleasure, Blaster, truly. I've learned….so much. But if I may trouble you with a request before you retire to your quarters, where would I find Jazz this early in the cycle?"

"No trouble at all! Hang on a click."

_:Blaster to Jazz, where ya at, mech?:_

_:Blaster? Frag, what ya still doin' on line? Thought ya'd be in recharge by now.:_

_:Naw, been up talkin':_

_:Oh? Ta who?:_

_:Well, ya'll find out if ya tell meh were ya at.:_

_:Oh, no, I ain't fallin' for that. Ya gonna send a fragged off Ratch or Hide ma' way, aren't cha?:_

_:Hahahahaa, one little prank an' ya turn all glitchy on meh. No, no, this certain mech has a direct connection with one Prowl.:_

_:Oh! Now him Ah'd welcome! Ah'm on ma' way ta work on some trainin' exercises with ma' Ops group. Why don' cha send 'em on down toward the Ops wing. Ah'll meet 'em in th' hall.:_

_:Will do!:_

Blaster closed the line and leaned toward Dodger again, "Ya got that data pad with the base map on it?"

Dodger nodded and took the data pad from subspace, handing it over. Blaster activated the pad and began to show Dodger how to find the Ops wing, drawing a map as he did so.

It didn't take Dodger too long, following Blaster's map, to reach his destination. Of course this meant he might be late meeting Prowl but if questioned on his where abouts, he could easily claim to have taken a long walk. It was mostly true and Prowl didn't need to know the details of the confrontation that was about to take place, not yet, not while he was still being influenced by Jazz.

Dodger turned a corner to see the same black and white mech that had strolled into the Med Bay last cycle waiting in the hall by a door, giving a wave and calling out to him once he saw Dodger walking his way, "Hey! Dodger!"

Jazz trotted over to meet Prowl's sire, delighted he wanted to talk or say Hi or just introduce himself. After all, it was hardly secret that he and Prowl were together or maybe Prowl had already told Dodger about them and Dodger wanted to meet Jazz for himself. He was thrilled, he was meeting a member of Prowl's family, the thought brought a huge grin to his face.

Upon reaching the mech, Jazz gave Dodger a firm handshake, "S'uh pleasure ta meet ya."

Dodger worked to contain his frown. Primus! The mechs language…and the visor, he hated visors. One should be able to look a mech in his optics, especially the optics of a mech who believed he had a claim on his sparkling.

Dodger returned the handshake giving a little nod, "Jazz."

Jazz let his grin shine. He was more than happy about Dodger's discovery, about Dodger and Prowl's reunion. Prowl's spirits had brightened considerably in the small amount of time Dodger had been at the base and there was nothing more Jazz enjoyed than a happy Prowl, for a happy Prowl made for an even happier Jazz.

"We'r all gonna have ta sit down an' have a chat. Yer aware Prowler an' Ah are -"

"Yes, I'm…..aware."

If it were possible, Jazz's smile grew, "Heh, good, that's great. So did Prowler tell ya? Did he tell ya how we met? Cause if not, Ah'll have ta tell ya how we met n' how we got together."

Dodger shook his head slightly, giving Jazz his own smile, "That won't be necessary."

"Oh? So, Prowler's already filled ya in on that story?"

"No."

Jazz canted his head a little in confusion. Dodger looked Jazz as square in the optics as he could, "And, to be honest, Jazz, I really don't see any point in me hearing it."

Jazz shifted, trying to keep the friendly smile on his face, not quite understanding where Dodger was coming from, "Ah'm….Ah'm sorry, A-"

"Sorry? Yes, Jazz, that you should be. Because quite frankly the way you've taken advantage of Prowl disgusts me."

Dodger watched the smile slide right off Jazz's face.

Jazz shook his head, "Ah've never taken advantage of Prowl."

"Do not lie, Jazz. Not to me, not to yourself. We both know you took advantage of the situation Prowl was in, of the situation presented to you. Because we both know no knowledgeable, self respecting Praxian would ever couple with a Polyhexian. Especially a visored one."

Jazz tensed, jaw clenching, hands curled into fists to reign in the urge to strike out at the insult, the accusations.

"I didn't seek you out to exchange pleasantries, Jazz. I'm here to tell you that Prowl will be moving on, moving forward toward a better, more respectable and fulfilling life, without you."

Jazz shook his head, all good humor gone, anger firmly in it's place, "Ya got no right -"

"I have every right. I'm Prowl's creator and I intend to educate him. That way others can't take advantage of him like you have -"

Jazz seethed, "Ah didn't take advantage of 'em! How dare ya accuse meh of that. An' further more, ya got no say in Prowl's an' Ah's relationship, no say in what we do."

"I do have a say when it involves one of my own. Seriously, Jazz, you know better. You know better! A Polyhexian of your age knows better."

Jazz nearly shook with anger, "You - …who do ya think ya are!"

"Who do you think you are? The very least you could have done was steer Bluestreak to Prowl so they-"

Jazz looked at Dodger incredulously, "Bluestreak! Primus, Dodge, ya ain't even got a concept of th' situation! Blue's like a' lil' brother ta 'em."

"'Bluestreak is like a little brother to him'. Primus, Jazz, you don't so much as speak the language as you butcher it up and chew on it." Dodger gave Jazz a look of disgust, "I don't know how Prowl's tolerated it this long. Primus only knows it could be the source of his glitch. And what's more, my name is Dodger. Not Dodge. Others may find your little name game cute or amusing but I don't. I -"

Jazz held up a hand, putting a halt to Dodger before he could say more, working to control his temper, he was actually trembling, "Careful, Dodger, careful. Cause th' only thing that's stoppin' me from puttin' ya through a wall right now is th' sole fact yer Prowl's sire. An' Ah don' wanna hurt Prowl by beatin' his only remainin' creator in ta th' ground."

Dodger stepped closer, "Then I might as well capitalize on my advantage."

Dodger looked at Jazz closely, seeing just how tightly wound he was, anger coming off him in waves, and spoke softly, "Prowl is too good for you. You know that, I know that, and very soon Prowl will know that. He deserves more and better than you can offer.

Prowl deserves a mech whose respectable, courteous, well spoken, and knows how to conduct himself properly in a public setting as well as social gatherings. Unlike the embarrassing, inappropriate, unruly, no doubt high grade induced antics you seem to be so well known for.

Your "good time" is over, Jazz, I hope you enjoyed it because I won't stand by and let Prowl be your little play thing any longer. If you care about Prowl, really care, even a little, you'll do the right thing and let him have a proper Praxian mate. You've had your fun, Jazz, now let him go and get out of his way."

Casting one last hard look at Jazz, Dodger turned around and began to retrace his steps back to the commons area. He didn't fear Jazz following, a door hissed closed and faint yelling a few moments later told him Jazz had gone into the Special Ops wing.

Though the task was unsavory, someone had to inform Jazz and set him straight, it might as well be him, not that he wasn't expecting a fight. No doubt Jazz would cling Prowl, cling to his "good time". But Jazz's stubbornness would ultimately be for not. Once Prowl got a taste of a real, proper relationship with a respectable Praxian, everything would fall into place.

It was the natural order of things.

* * *

Jazz shook with rage as he watched Dodger walk away.

He didn't care if the mech was Prowl's creator, the mech had no right to talk to him like that, to say those things….no one had that right.

Intakes heaving, Jazz turned and entered the Ops wing, the door hissing shut behind him. He barreled down the hall past the Ops commons area, only to back track when he saw the room was full of the mechs sitting and standing around, visiting with one another when they were suppose to be working on training exercises.

Jazz walked into the room, "What's goin' on here?"

The mechs turned to him, smiling and joking among each other, "Hey, Jazz!"

Already pushed to his limits with no outlet, Jazz snapped, "Why aren' ya out doin' th' trainin' exercises?"

The anger and irritation was clear in his voice. The room quieted, several mechs lost their grins.

"We…we were waiting on you, Sir. Your….late."

Jazz heaved through his vents, his voice rising, "It shouldn' matter if Ah'm late or not. Ya'll know th' exercises. We done 'em a' thousand times. Ah shouldn' have ta hold yer fraggin' hands! Now, git out there an' do th' fraggin' trainin'!"

The mechs stared at Jazz in shock. Many of them had never seen Jazz even remotely angry before, serious but not angry.

The room went silent, every shocked optic on Jazz. Jazz looked around the room at the still mechs, no one moved.

"MOVE!"

The commons area erupted in a flurry of sound and movement as the mechs moved as quickly as possible to exit the room, heading quickly to the training area, none wanting to aggravate Jazz further.

Jazz waited as they moved out of the room, trying to calm himself. When they had all gone he moved to follow, only to double back, heading out of the commons area and straight to his office.

Once the door slid shut behind him, he leaned both hands on his desk, bowing his head forward, taking deep breaths to try and calm the stinging rage inside.

But Dodger's words haunted him.

_"Prowl is too good for you. You know that, I know that, and very soon Prowl will know that"_

_"If you care about Prowl, really care, even a little, you'll do the right thing and let him have a proper Praxian mate."_

_"...no knowledgeable, self respecting Praxian would ever couple with a Polyhexian. Especially a visored one."_

_"…you took advantage of the situation Prowl was in."_

_"…you've taken advantage of Prowl…"_

Jazz glared at the objects on his desk. Data pads, styluses, various little knickknacks he'd picked up over the vorns. He trembled with barely contained rage.

_"…you've taken advantage of Prowl…"_

With one forceful sweep of his arm, Jazz sent the contents on top of his desk flying across the room.

"FRAG!"

He picked up data pads and hurled them against the wall, feeling a twinge of satisfaction when they shattered. Jazz turned, over turning chairs, to land a brutal kicking the front of his desk, "STUPID…BIASED…FRAGGER!"

With one last savage kick, the front of his desk crumpled in, shoved up against the wall. Jazz leaned on it again, cycling deep breaths. Quietly cursing when there was a soft knock on his door, "It's me."

Jazz looked up at the door, "Mirage?"

"Yes."

Jazz looked down at his desk as he shook his head, "Ah thought ya was in th' trainin' area, doin' th' exercises like Ah told ya to."

"I am."

Jazz felt the hint of a smile threatening to come on, "An' yet ya stand before mah office door."

"I'm that good."

Jazz broke into a small smile and gave a weak, breathy laugh, some of the tension leaving his frame.

"May I come in?"

Jazz let a long sigh out, "Th' door ain' locked."

"That's not the same as a yes."

Jazz ran a hand over his helm and looked at the state his office was in, feeling a touch ashamed. After a moment he relented, "Yeah, ya kin come in."

The door slid open but Mirage stayed where he was, taking in the damage. He looked at Jazz and quirked a brow ridge, "Is it safe?"

Jazz gave him a lopsided grin, "As long as ya ain' an inanimate object, Ah think yer safe."

Mirage gave a hum of consideration as he stepped in, letting the door close behind him. He looked Jazz over, head to foot, "You ok?"

Jazz actually shook his head, "No.". He looked up at Mirage's serious face, "But Ah will be."

Watching him a moment, Mirage reached into his subspace and produced two cubes of high grade, handing one to Jazz, "Here, a little always helps take the edge off."

Jazz took the cube and eyed Mirage, "Ya always keep high grade stashed away in yer subspace?"

"Yes."

"Really?"

"Of course. I like to keep it on hand so when the cycle comes that I get promoted, I'll have something to toast with no matter where I am."

Jazz looked at Mirage incredulously, "Mirage, th' only promotion ya kin git is ta Head of Ops…..an' that's mah job."

Mirage gave Jazz a dull look, "Your bound to get taken down some cycle, Jazz, and that's when I move up.". Mirage then looked at the cube of high grade in his hand, "Which reminds me, if the high grade tastes stale its because I've been waiting THAT long."

Chuckling, Jazz leaned a hip against his desk, "Ah'm gonna take that as a compliment."

Mirage leaned back against the wall, giving him a wry smile, "As you should.". Mirage gave Jazz a moment to sip the high grade and relax a touch further before gesturing to the demolished office, "So, what brought this on?"

Jazz sighed and looked around him, "Dodger."

Mirage frowned at him, "Prowl's creator?"

"The same."

Mirage looked at Jazz and when no further explanation was given, prodded a little, "I find it difficult to believe a neutral Praxian could get under your plating so easily when hundreds of vorns of dealing with Decepticons could not."

Nudging aside a broken data pad with a foot, Jazz shrugged, "Yeah, well, Decepticons ain' Dodger."

"Care to explain?"

Jazz sighed and relayed the earlier exchange between Dodger and himself. Mirage nodded, "Well, I can certainly see where Dodger is coming from."

Jazz stared at Mirage, unable to believe what he'd just heard, "You AGREE with him?"

Mirage waved a hand dismissively, "Oh, frag no. But I'm a Towers mech, Jazz, I know how these things work. Mind you, Towers mechs are snobs and elitists. Praxians, on the other hand, are purists."

Mirage gave a shrug, "I know my creators wouldn't have approved of Hound. At least Dodger cares about Prowl and his well being. My creators….they probably would have just disowned me. Besides, its not like what he said holds any truth. He's basing his entire opinion of you on a stereotype."

Jazz shook his head and looked down, anger flaring up in him again, "That's what's makin' meh mad."

"That he's stereotyping you?"

"Yes….and what really pisses meh off is that he's mostly right."

Mirage shook his head and frowned, "What? No -"

"Yes, yes, he is. He was right. Think about it. He don' like visored mechs cause he pins us as untrustworthy, secret keeping, sneaks. Well, look what Ah am! Ah'm a saboteur! Ah'm the very definition of a secret keeping sneak! It's what Ah do."

"Ok, lets give him that. But, Jazz, your not untrustworthy."

Jazz set his cube of high grade down on his desk, "Oh? Tell meh, Mirage, when there's an information leak, who gets the finger pointed at 'em first? ME! My division. We're always th' ones put under investigation. Never mind not once have they found anything'. Its always some other mech in another division but, by Primus, when th' issue comes up all optics fall on me an' we're th' first ones looked at. That's called bein' treated like ya untrustworthy."

"Ok, so, well…I…."

Jazz shook his head, "Don' git meh wrong, Mirage, Ah'm not apologizin' for who Ah am or what Ah do. We're at war here. Ah don' go out there to play nice or make friends. This is survival. Jist makes meh mad he pinned me so easy wit' a fraggin' stereotype."

"Well, at least the rest of what he said wasn't true."

Jazz gave no answer, he looked down at the desk he was leaning on and toyed with the cube of high grade. After a moment of silence Mirage repeated himself, "At least the rest of what he said wasn't true."

Jazz continued to look down at the desk, refusing to look at Mirage. Mirage watched him, letting the silence stretch out a little longer before speaking, "Jazz…..did-"

Finally Jazz looked at him, irritation etched on his face as his voice took on a defensive tone, "There weren't suppose ta be anymore Praxi'ns! There was Prowl, Smokescreen, an' Blue. An'….an' there wasn't goin' ta be anythin' between Blue an' Prowl cause Blue was so young an' he an' Prowl have a relationship like that of a creator an' sparkling'. An' Prowl an' Smokie? That's a laugh! Those two kin barely tolerate be in th' same room some cycles. So it wasn't like they were gonna couple up! So, yeah, maybe Ah did take advantage of th' situation Prowl was in."

Jazz vented a heavy sigh and rubbed a hand over his face, "Do ya have any idea how fraggin' hard Ah had ta work, how much patience and persuasion it took jist ta git Prowl ta give us a chance. An' now Dodger's here an' he's gonna do his best ta frag it all up!"

Jazz shook his head and tossed back the last of the high grade. Mirage was silent, thinking everything over.

"Given the situation, Jazz, why don't you show Dodger what your capable of, what you can really do."

Jazz looked at Mirage and frowned, "What? Like fight 'em? Oh, Ah don' think Prowl would like that at all."

"No! I mean show him that you can be as good as or better than these Praxians he believes are better for Prowl than you are."

Jazz stared at Mirage, "Ya want meh ta act like a Praxi'n?"

Mirage nodded, "Yes. That's his main argument, isn't it? That the Praxians he's with are better than you. If you behave the same way they do, speak like they do, act like they do or better then his argument will be pretty much mute and he'll have little left to stand on."

Jazz considered the idea, "Hmmmm, act like a Praxi'n?"

Mirage nodded, "Act like a Praxian."

Jazz grinned, grabbing hold of the idea, letting it blossom in his mind, and nodded, "Ah kin do that."

Mirage shook his head, correcting him, "Remember Jazz, you need to say it like a Praxian would. 'I can do that'."

"Right. Ah kin do that."

"No. I can do that"

"S'what Ah said."

Mirage sighed and pointed to an overturned chair, "Lets sit down. This may take awhile."

***Authors Notes***Poor Prowl isn't going to know what hit him. Dodger throwing Praxian mechs at him left and right, Jazz now behaving like one. What's a tactician to do? LOL, Thanks for reading! And I always love it when one reads and reviews! Thanks! :)


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